|Something tells me these socks|
were paired by a political conservative.
Stella is quite smitten with her drawer of Grandma-folded underwear. She opens the drawer several times a day to take a peek at them. Enjoy it while it lasts, kid, because it's NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN AGAIN.
I guess if Stella asked me to fold her underwear for her birthday, I would do it. But only if she had been very good.
|Where's the 'on' button|
on this thing?
Grandma also brought a bunch of hand-me-down clothes and toys for the kids. That's great, except that it threw the Crap Balance in our house out of whack. The Crap Balance is a finely-tuned equilibrium between all the junk (er, valuable possessions) inside our house, and the four walls that can just barely contain that junk. So if we add more stuff, then either a) our house will shoot out a geyser of junk like a two-liter of Diet Coke into which a tube-full of Mentos have been dropped, or b) we have to drop some stuff off at St. Vincent on the double. Fortunately, Stella was so entranced by her folded underwear that I was able to smuggle some stuffed animals out the door when she wasn't looking.
My mother-in-law only had a short visit, so things are back to normal now. Our house is cleaner, Stella has some new-to-her clothes, and Grandma and the grandkids got to spend some quality time together. And you never know, perhaps I'll have a change of heart and start folding Stella's underwear. After all, Christmas is coming up.